Two things. You got scared. You sat there in Frank’s office worrying about what threat it posed for Hb, because you didn’t know whether Emma’s story was true or not. Who was she really? What did she want? You sent her in Stef’s direction so he could help assess her. So you could make a decision. You phoned him after we left. You warned Stef that we were coming. Am I right?’
‘In a way.’
‘The second thing that happened was that Emma’s photos and story made Frank even more suspicious. He must have had his suspicions about you and Cobie anyway. Even though he told us Cobie hadn’t committed the vulture murders, he wasn’t sure. When Emma turned up he had to do something. He unlocked Cobie’s place and searched it. He found the stuff. The photos and other proof, about Hb. I don’t know what it was, but I know it wasn’t in the bookshelf in the kitchen, was it?’
‘No.’
‘Where did Cobie hide it?’
‘In the ceiling.’
‘So he phoned Emma and left the message, but before she could phone back, he confronted you about Hb. He wasn’t happy about it. He threatened to go to the police, or something. So you threw him in the lion camp.’
‘No! Frank was my friend.’ Passionate, arms waving. ‘I’d never do that. I don’t know what happened, I swear to you. I only looked in the safe the day after Frank died.’
‘Because you had to hide the rifles you used to shoot the dogs.’
‘Yes. OK. I had no choice. But when I opened the safe, I saw the blood. And I found Cobie’s documents. And those photos I showed Emma. I took the album to Cobie’s house and I put it on the bed, and then I searched the place to make sure there was nothing else. There was this box in his ceiling, but it was empty. I can only assume, you know, that Frank found it there, and took the contents, and put them in the safe.’
‘You said Frank’s death was no accident. You had a motive, Donnie.’
‘Jesus, Lemmer, how can you think that? I loved the man. I respected him more than any other. It wasn’t me.’
‘Who, Donnie? Who?’
‘Someone who didn’t want Emma to see the photo.’
‘What photo?’
‘The one that was missing from the album.’
I looked at them, at Stef Moller and Donnie Branca, with their righteous frowns, the sincerity carved deeply on their faces in the light of the half-moon, and slowly shook my head.
‘No, you’re lying to me. Tomorrow I’m going to the
Branca began to speak but Stef Moller stopped him with a hand in the air. ‘Lemmer, please, what can I do to convince you?’ he said slowly.
‘Tell the truth, Stef.’
‘That’s what we’ve been doing the whole time.’
‘No, it isn’t. Cobie is Emma’s brother. Donnie said the photo that disappeared – someone didn’t want Emma to see it. Why wouldn’t you want Emma to see it? Why would Frank phone Emma about it? Why do you still insist that he’s not Emma’s brother?’
‘Because we asked him,’ said Stef.
‘When?’
‘Three days ago. Saturday. Cobie de Villiers said he had never heard of her.’
37
I had to restrain myself. I wanted to get up and grab Stef by the throat and shake him. ‘So why are you lying to me about where Cobie is?’ But he must have known what my reaction would be.
‘We don’t know where he is, Lemmer. He phoned out of the blue. He said that he’d heard that Frank Wolhuter was dead. We must be very careful, because the people who did it are very dangerous. We must take precautions; we must arm ourselves and make sure we are never alone. I asked him where he was and he said it didn’t matter. I asked him about Emma and he said he had no family, he didn’t know anyone like that.’
‘Did you ask him why he shot those people?’
‘I didn’t need to. We know it was him.’
‘But Frank and Donnie swore it wasn’t him.’
Donnie Branca half rose indignantly. ‘What did you expect, Lemmer? Be realistic, for Christ’s sake. Frank didn’t believe it was Cobus. What did you want me to do? Go tell everybody, “Yes, Cobie shot them in cold blood, the bastard”? I mean, Jesus.’
‘Sit down, Donnie.’ But it didn’t help. He was angry. He got up, walked a circle in the dark and came back to stand in front of me.
‘Fuck you, Lemmer. What are you going to do? Shoot me? I’m sick and tired of you. If there’s something that proves Cobie is Emma’s brother, it’s not our business. The stupid fuck went and shot innocent people and put twelve years’ work at risk. Twelve fucking years. That’s how long Stef worked to get Hb going, to make it work. You shake your fucking head when we talk about the threat to the environment. You’re just like everybody. The media, the government, the fucking public, everybody is in denial. You have no idea what’s happening, Lemmer. All over the world. It’s a fucking mess. I dare you, go do your homework. Go look at the facts. Go read the scientific material. All of it.
Not just climate change. Everything. Loss of habitat, deforestation, population growth, pollution, land abuse, urban sprawl, development, poaching, smuggling, poverty, globalisation. And then come back and tell me that there’s no crisis. Go to the media. Expose us. See if you can stop it.’
‘Donnie,’ Stef Moller placated him.
‘Jesus, Stef, I’ve had enough of this fucking fool. Read my lips, Lemmer. We did not touch Frank or Emma. And if you don’t believe that, you can go fuck yourself.’ He stalked off to the side of the pick-up, opened the door and said, ‘Come on, Stef, let’s go,’ slammed the door and started the engine.
Stef Moller slowly got up and walked past me. ‘He’s right,’ was all he said. He got into the pick-up and I had to move out of the way, because it didn’t seem as though Donnie Branca was going to stop for me.
I’d believed that Emma was lying to me and I’d been wrong. My belief in my built-in lie detector had been shaken. I stood in the dark and watched the red lights of the Toyota disappear in the distance and I thought Donnie Branca was telling the truth and that Stef Moller was still hiding something.
If you want to know whether someone is lying, look at his eyes. It was difficult with Moller because of the constant blinking and the thick lenses. That night I couldn’t see his face in the dark and I had to listen to his voice, its rhythm and intonation. He wasn’t telling the whole truth.
Or was it my imagination?
I went back to my nest.
Tall Stef Moller with his bald pate and glasses and his slow, solemn way of speaking. I thought he was harmless the day we’d met him. Even though something had bothered me in the shed, something I had missed.
Tall, dispassionate men are not high on a bodyguard’s list of threats. The assassins of history have been short, busy little men. Lee Harvey Oswald, Dmitri Tsafendas, John Hinckley, Mark David Chapman.
I hadn’t expected Moller here tonight. It was his voice which had convinced me to come out from cover and call to them, because I didn’t identify him with cold-blooded attacks and violence. It wasn’t just an instinct. Stef Moller had an aura of the oppressed and wounded about him.
But I did know that he was lying. About something.
What bothered me about the shed?
Branca hadn’t been involved in the attack on Emma and myself. I believed him.
Who was it, then?
And why was Moller lying? Had he sent someone else? Didn’t he trust Branca enough, and were there other
